


Waiting for a star to fall

by manicmama



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Love Story, M/M, Some Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:52:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmama/pseuds/manicmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Bobby's house, Dean and Castiel fall in love. How does Dean cope when Castiel leaves him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for a star to fall

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this fits in to the series timeline - in fact it doesn't really - but it felt like it wanted to be written, so I wrote it. I hope you enjoy it.

Waiting for a star to fall. 

 

Sam walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes, hair all mussed up. Bobby was making breakfast at the old cooker and the room was filled with the delicious smell of bacon.   
“Dean not up yet?” Sam asked, surprised. His brother didn’t need much sleep and was usually up and about and teasing Sam for sleeping in.

“No.” Bobby grumped. “Maybe you could go up and shake him and Cas outta bed.”

“Sure,” said Sam, heading for the stairs “wait.. what?” as his brain caught up with his ears.

“You heard, idjit. They’re in the attic room.” And Bobby turned back to his cooking.

Sam stared at Bobby’s unresponsive back while trying to process what he’d heard. Dean? And Castiel? Sharing the attic room? Why? Bobby’s big old rambling house had plenty of rooms. Still mulling it over, he trudged up the old wooden staircase until he reached the attic room door. Tapping on it briefly, he opened it and walked into the room. Like every other room in Bobby’s house, the attic was dusty and full of stuff – old books, strange bits and pieces picked up on Bobby’s travels. There was only one piece of furniture, a big old iron-framed bed pushed against the far wall. In the bed were Dean and Castiel, with the sheets rucked down around their waists, both apparently naked. Dean was lying on his back looking up at Castiel, who was leaning on one elbow over him – Castiel’s free hand was on Dean’s chest and Dean was running his hand along Castiel’s arm, from shoulder to elbow and back again. As Sam watched, stunned and disbelieving, Castiel dipped his head and kissed Dean on the lips, slow and tender. When he raised his head, the expression in his eyes made Sam look away for a moment – it was nakedly loving, and Dean had the same look on his face, which made him seem almost a stranger to Sam. Sam had seen Dean kiss many women, but he’d never seen that look on his face before, nor seen his brother looking so relaxed or so… so contented. As Sam looked back at the two in the bed, he saw Castiel slide his hand down Dean’s chest and under the sheet, where he apparently did something that caused Dean to gasp, and arch his back. Sam felt it was time and more to announce his presence before this got really embarrassing.

“Hrm, hrm!” he coughed. “Uh, Bobby wants – um, we wondered… um, Bobby’s making breakfast and he sent me to.. uh.. see if you wanted any?” he stuttered out, flushing up to his roots and feeling awkward.  
Castiel and Dean both turned their heads to look at him, neither startled nor embarrassed – and Castiel’s hand was still moving under the sheet.

“Ok, Sammy, thanks – we’ll be down in a few minutes.” Dean said in his familiar growl.

Sam, feeling more awkward and out of his depth by the second, backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment on the landing outside the door thinking about what he’d seen, until a groan from Dean and the sound of the old bed starting to creak sent him down the stairs in a hurry. He wasn’t sure he was ready to listen to his brother having sex with an angel – or ex-angel – or anyone, really. He reached the foot of the stairs and walked into the kitchen with a bemused look on his face. Bobby took one look at him and let out a crack of laughter.

“Ha! You didn’t know, didja, son?”

It wasn’t really a question, but Sam answered with a question of his own.

“What, so… Dean is gay, now? How did that even happen?”

“I dunno, son,” Bobby shrugged, beginning to serve up the food. “He says he’s not gay, as such, it’s just Cas – says he’s ‘in love’ with Cas!” There was unmistakeable scorn in Bobby’s voice.

“And you don’t think it’s true? You don’t think it’s love?” asked Sam.

“I think it’s trouble, is what it is,” grumbled Bobby. “But I can’t see any way out of it or around it at the moment, so I guess we’ll just have to wait it out.”

“Not your brightest idea, old man.” said a new and sarcastic voice behind them – Bobby and Sam turned to look and there was Crowley, leaning against the sink in his familiar all-black suit as if he’d been there all the time. Before either of them could say anything or react, they heard footsteps coming down the stairs and Castiel and Dean walked into the kitchen, smiling and relaxed. Dean tensed a little at the sight of the demon king, but made no comment.

“Well, isn’t this domestic!” sneered Crowley. “Quite the Brady Bunch set up you’ve got here.”

“What do you want, Crowley?” asked Dean, seating himself at the table and pulling a plate of bacon and eggs towards him.

“You lot are supposed to be out there bagging the bad guys,” snarled Crowley with anger. “Instead of which, two of you are prancing about hand-in-hand and setting up a cozy little love-nest together!”

“We’re still doing our jobs, Crowley,” said Dean thickly, through a mouthful of food. “What does it matter to you what else we do?”

Castiel had been staring at Crowley the whole time – Crowley couldn’t meet the searching blue gaze and turned away.

“I believe he’s jealous.” Castiel remarked. “Did you want Dean for yourself, Crowley? Was it his soul, or his body you wanted? Or both?” he asked.

Crowley flushed angrily, and didn’t answer the angel, choosing instead to reply to Dean’s question.

“It matters what you do, Squirrel, coz this is going to blow up in all our faces! Too many stabs with his ‘angel blade’ and you won’t be able to think of anything else! Don’t you know why angels and humans aren’t supposed to pair off? Coz the human half doesn’t usually survive it!” he shouted.

“What are you talking about, Crowley?” Dean asked in a deadly quiet voice.

Sam shot a look at Castiel, who was looking uncomfortable.

“You know what he means, don’t you Cas? Is Dean in danger from you?” he asked.

Castiel flushed and took a moment to reply.

“I know what he means, yes” he answered softly. “Historically, in some cases, the human half of the pair becomes addicted to the angel half – dangerously so – so that if the angel is no longer there, then the human goes into.. withdrawal, I think you’d call it.. and..and could die. But no known pairing has been male/male,” he burst out, “ and I no longer have my grace.. and Dean is very strong, physically and mentally – I don’t believe he will become addicted!”

“I’m right here, you know” Dean interjected, “don’t I get a say?”

“You don’t believe he will – but you don’t know for sure, do you, angel-face?” Crowley hissed. “At least with me, he might have stood a chance of surviving..”

“Again – right here.” said Dean. “ I make my own choices, Sammy – take my own risks. You don’t have to worry about me!” and his voice was loaded with meaning. Sam flushed, remembering the whole history with Ruby, when Dean had tried repeatedly to show him the path he was on would lead to disaster, and Sam had been so determined to show his big brother that he, Sam, could be the one to save the day.  
“As for you,” Dean continued, pushing his chair back and approaching Crowley “you know Cas is human now. How much danger can I be in?”

“As if!” sneered Crowley. “He may have lost his wings and his grace, but he’s still more angel than man. Didn’t you wonder why you – notorious skirt-chaser Dean Winchester – why you fell for a man? It’s that whole fallen angel thing, Dean – corrupted innocence, whatever you want to call it – makes angels irresistible to anyone they’ve emotionally bonded with. It’s like he’s shining a very strong flashlight right into your eyes, so that you can’t see anything else. That’s why you had no choice but to fall for him, and why you’ll fall to pieces when he leaves!” he spat.

“Why would he leave?” asked Dean.

“Because he’s still angel enough to put heaven first!” snapped Crowley. “When push comes to shove and they need him up there, do you really think he’ll choose you? He’ll strap those wings on and be out of here before you can bat those pretty green eyes! Look at him, Dean! He’s thousands of years old – you’ve been around for a gnat’s eyeblink to him! His first loyalty is always going to be to his kind!”

Dean had gone very still during this speech. Now he shrugged, and said

“I’ve been a hunter since I was a boy. Never thought much about my future, because it didn’t seem like I’d have one – it was always going to end early, and end messy. With or without Cas, that doesn’t change things much. But while he’s with me, I’m happy and that’s enough for me.”

And he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

“Stupid!’ hissed Crowley. “You should knock some sense into him, Moose!” And he vanished.

Bobby and Sam were left looking at Castiel, who shifted uncomfortably under their combined stare.

“Is he right, Castiel?” asked Bobby softly. “Is this – thing – with you going to hurt Dean?”

“I don’t know,” answered Castiel, miserably. “This is not a situation I am familiar with, Bobby. I don’t know what will happen to Dean if I leave.”

“If you leave?” repeated Sam. “Are you planning on leaving, Castiel?”

Castiel looked up at him with haunted eyes.

“Crowley was right,” he sighed, “if there was any way I could regain my grace – help my brothers and sisters in their battles – I would have to go. My first duty always lies with them.” he admitted.

Sam and Bobby would have said more at this point, but Dean’s voice spoke from behind them.

“And that’s how it should be – family always comes first!” He looked at Sam and Bobby as if daring them to say anything further, then spoke again to Castiel.  
“Come on, Cas. Supply run – we’re almost out of beer.” And he turned and left the house, Castiel following him. The other two heard the creak of the doors on the old Impala, and then the rumble of the engine as it started up, and pulled away. They looked at each other across the kitchen, and neither could find any words.

Later that same night, Dean and Castiel are in the big old iron bed in the attic room. Dean is uncharacteristically quiet, and Castiel is kissing his chest and neck with small light kisses, trying to distract him. He looks up and sees the slight frown on Dean’s face. 

“What worries you, Dean?” he asks, running his hands down over Dean’s chest to his hips.

Dean glances down at him, and smiles reassuringly.

“Nothing, Cas – just thinking things through… ahhh!” he hisses between his teeth as Castiel’s wandering hand runs down his body and strokes his cock. “… can’t think of anything too much when you’re doing that!”

Cas chuckles, “That is what I had hoped, Dean.” His tone turns more serious as he continues. “You know that I will not leave you, Dean, while I have a choice.”

His hand strokes Dean’s cock again, and Dean starts to rub himself against Castiel’s hand as he feels his erection growing. Dean can feel his breathing becoming uneven and his heartbeat speeding up – it’s always this way with Cas, like his whole body has become more sensitive. The slightest touch from his angel and he’s getting hard and ready to go.

“Cas.. oh, Christ, that feels good.. I don’t know what you do.. to me, but you drive me.. crazy.. oh fuck.. don’t stop…Cas…”

Castiel swings himself across Deans body while his hand continues its ministrations, leans down and begins to kiss Dean, gently at first, but the intensity builds and soon both men are panting. Dean’s movements become more urgent against Castiels hand and he is beginning to make small groaning noises in the back of his throat, tangling his hands in the angels thick black hair. 

“Cas.. Please..” he mumbles against Castiels mouth.

Castiel pulls away and slides down Dean’s body, taking Dean’s cock deep into his mouth, making Dean gasp out loud and arch himself forward – he is having trouble controlling himself, is afraid for a moment that he will come there and then, the angels mouth is so soft and warm and he turns out to give the most incredible blowjobs. Castiel runs one hand between Dean’s legs, cupping his balls gently as his tongue does a dance up and down the shaft of Dean’s cock.  
“oh.. Cas, please… oh yeah, fuuuck.. that’s so good.. Cas..” Dean moans, and Castiel finds himself becoming hard listening to his lover’s pleasure. He runs his hands all over Dean’s body, his chest and stomach, his hips and thighs, his ass, and he can’t hold off any longer. He releases Dean’s cock and reaches up under the pillow to grab the bottle of lube. He straddles Dean’s body again, and generously slathers Dean’s cock with the lubricant, using what’s left on his fingers on his own ass. Dean’s eyes are wide, green and beautiful, the pupils dilated as he watches his lover’s preparations. He can barely breathe from the cottony feeling swelling in his throat and his cock throbs hard with the anticipation. Slowly Castiel guides Dean’s cock to where he wants it, and slowly he lowers himself onto it, gradually taking it in, letting himself get used to the sensation before taking a little more – a little more. When Dean is fully inside him, he begins to move, up and down, still so slowly that it’s almost torment, almost more than Dean can bear. Dean tries to thrust his hips up, to increase the pace, but Castiel is strong and holds him down, forcing him to take it slowly. Sensation is washing over Dean in huge waves, and he sobs and moans incoherently with the pleasure of it. Castiel has his lower lip caught between his teeth as he tries to hold back, but he too is finding it difficult – especially when he can see the beautiful man beneath him writhing in ecstasy. He begins to rock faster, feeling the tension build in himself and in his lover, loving the feeling of Dean filling him, pressing into him. Dean’s hand goes around Castiels cock and begins to stroke him in a rhythm with his thrusts. Their movements become more urgent and frantic, there is a sheen of sweat on both of them, and Castiel too is moaning out loud now as Dean’s cock slams up into him again and again, hitting that spot that feels so good. He feels the pressure building in him and he cries out,

“Dean! Oh, Dean, I’m coming! .. oh fuck, that feels so good.. !”

His voice is hoarse with arousal and ecstasy, and as Dean watches, Castiels eyes roll up, his orgasm bursts from him and he thrusts himself down on Dean hard. Dean can feel all Castiels muscles clenching around his cock and the sensation together with the sight pushes him over the edge – he comes hard inside Castiel and each pulse of his orgasm seems to stop his heart. For a moment the feeling is close to divine, the closest Castiel has felt to heaven since losing his grace, and he falls forward into Dean’s arms, shuddering and panting. Dean strokes Castiels hair back from his face, and kisses him again and again. Their bodies are sticky with sweat and come, and their hearts are beating wildly together – Dean wishes he could wrap this moment up and keep it to savour again, through the bad times he feels sure are ahead after Crowley’s words this morning. His chin trembles and a tear escapes. Castiel feels it on his face, and raises his head to look at Dean. 

“What’s the matter, Dean? Did I make you sad?” he asks.

Dean smiles, “No, Cas… just coming down from the high, I guess. I love you, Cas.” 

Castiel says nothing, but he slides to one side of Dean and wraps his arms around him.

“If it helps, Dean, I love you, too” he says “and it hurts me at the same time as it makes me happy. Is that a human thing?”

Dean laughs a little and clears his throat.

“Yeah, Cas. Yeah, I guess it is.” he replies.

Castiel drifts off into sleep, but Dean lies awake for a long time, eyes open wide in the darkened room, staring at nothing and wondering just how bad it will be when Cas leaves.

 

It’s a month later at Bobby’s house and Castiel has been gone for almost three weeks. They just woke up one morning, and he wasn’t there. Dean hasn’t said much about it – for the first week he didn’t do much but lie on the old iron bed, staring at the ceiling and drinking enough cheap whiskey to float a battleship. Sam and Bobby didn’t know how to help, so they left him to himself.

“He’ll find a way through on his own,” grunted Bobby, “or he won’t. Either way, not much we can do about it.”

Through the second week, Dean got up from the bed and moved around more, drifting around the house like a silent and aimless ghost. Mostly he sat in the Impala for hours at a time, listening to his music. He continued to drink whiskey like there was going to be a world shortage and he didn’t eat much. He visibly lost weight, and was just as visibly unhappy.

“I just wish he’d get mad or something.” Said Sam, watching Dean sitting in the Impala from the kitchen window. “Throw stuff, maybe – shout and yell at us.”

Bobby sighed, and moved away from the window.

“He’ll get through it, son. People do.” he grunted.

“If only we could find Castiel..” Sam started, trailing off miserably. They’d tried everything they could think of, and had no response from the angel.  
And now, this morning, at the end of the third week, Bobby and Sam are sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when they hear Dean coming down the stairs. Both are instantly alert – Dean hasn’t been down for breakfast since Castiel left. Dean walks into the kitchen and sits at the table.

“Any coffee, Bobby?” he asks, in a rusty voice.

Bobby gets up and pours him coffee without any comment, but Sam can’t stop staring at his brother. Something has changed – something about his hair. Sam gets up and walks behind Dean to get more coffee for himself and takes a good look at his hair in the sunlight from the window. It’s very clear from behind – Dean’s hair is turning white. Sam’s eyes meet Bobby’s, shocked, but before he can speak, a harsh voice sounds from the other end of the kitchen.

“So you finally spotted it, did you, Moose?” Crowley sneers, leaning against the sink. “The wonders of a college education, eh?”

“Spotted what?” asks Dean, but he doesn’t sound particularly interested.

“What’s happening to you, Squirrel, is what your dear giant baby brother has finally spotted. You are getting older, and you are going to die.” Crowley states.

“That’s happening to all of us, idjit!” snaps Bobby.

Crowley raises his brows. “True,” he concedes “ for you lot anyway. But this one here” and he points at Dean “has had a little too much angel dust, if you get my meaning. He is going to get old and die in, oh, about six weeks, I should think.”

“What?” “What are you talking about?” exclaim Bobby and Sam together.

“I told you before,” Crowley says patiently. “Addiction to an angel is dangerous. It sucks the life out of a human – literally. Speeds the metabolism, or something. Remove the angel, and the effects speed up even more. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He finishes, smugly.

“So.. so what can we do about it?” asks Sam, sounding winded. 

“Nothing, sunshine,” says Crowley, walking closer to him. “The end is inevitable. Unless, of course, Castiel takes it into his head to come back in time.”

“No-one is going to ask him to.” Deans voice croaks out, sounding unused. “He wouldn’t have gone unless they needed him – if they need him that bad.. then I can live without him.” he states flatly.

“But Dean.. you’re not going to live! You’re going to die unless he comes back!” Sam bursts out.

Dean smiles at Sam in a weary kind of way – Sam can see the new lines on his face, Dean looks like he’s way past 40 instead of the 30ish Sam knows him to be.

“Honestly, Sammy? Can’t say I care that much. I’m tired – been tired for a long, long time. It isn’t living, what we do – hunting and all that. It’s fear, and crappy motel rooms, and bad food, and too much booze and other peoples misery. I’ve had more than enough - what Cas is doing is important – if he can’t come back, then I don’t care much about living without him. Sorry.”

Crowley makes a retching noise.

“I think I’ll leave before Juliet here makes me throw up!” he announces. And he vanishes.

Sam and Bobby exchange a look over Dean’s head which speaks of their determination to find Castiel. Dean, although tired and heartsick, is not stupid.

“Leave it, guys.” he rasps. “Just leave it, ok?”

Despite Dean’s ban, Bobby and Sam continue to do all they can over the next weeks to find Castiel, with no results. Dean grows visibly older day by day, and begins to spend more and more time in a chair out on Bobby’s porch with a beer in one hand, dreaming in the sunshine. It hurts Sam to see the older brother he has always looked up to, turning into this absent-minded, feeble old man. The body is still lean and fit-looking, the hair is still thick, although entirely white now – but there is a lost look in the eyes that hints at a mind losing its grip, and sometimes, when Sam speaks to him, Dean looks at him like he’s having trouble remembering who Sam is. What neither Sam nor Bobby can know is that as Dean approaches his end, he is taking more and more comfort in his memories of the only time in his life he truly, unselfishly loved, and knew that he was loved in return. His mind is full of images of Cas, and he dreams;

He dreams of the time he and Cas took a shower together, the water spraying warm on their bodies. How they got all soaped up, and starting kissing and touching each other until they both had raging erections, how it had ended with them jerking each other off, how Dean had almost fallen out of Bobby’s rusty old clawfoot tub as he came hard and his knees turned to rubber.

Of the time Dean was working on the Impala, stripped to the waist under the hot sun, and Cas brought him a cold beer. How they had somehow ended up fooling around, getting both of them oily and sweaty, and how Dean had ended up blowing Cas in the back seat of the car, with a mouthful of cold beer.

Of slow-fucking on the iron bed as the sun set, painting them both with deep gold, Cas’s heels hooked over Dean’s shoulders as he thrust long and slow into the angel, both feeling that the pleasure was unbearable, neither willing for it to stop – every pant and gasp and cry from Castiel sending shockwaves down Dean’s nerve endings until his head spun and his cock felt like it was going to explode.

Dean remembers everything; Castiel’s peaceful beautiful sleeping face – his blue, blue eyes that always seemed to smile when they rested on Dean. The sound of Castiel’s voice cracking as he begged Dean to fuck him, fuck him hard, please, Dean, do it like that, oh yes, Dean please! He remembers the taste of Castiel’s mouth, the feel of that mouth around his cock, the tongue that flicked so nimbly round him from shaft to tip. He remembers the morning he woke to find nothing of Castiel except a few black hairs on the pillow, and how something inside him went cold and died right there and them. The rest of him will follow soon, and he is grateful for that. He loves Sam, loves Bobby, and he knows his death will hurt them, but he can’t bear it, can’t bear to wake each day without his heart, his angel.  
He sits on the porch each evening until its dark. Sam comes out, and sits with him for a while. Noticing Dean staring at the sky, he asks softly,

“What are you looking for, Dean?”

Dean turns his head and looks at Sam – he smiles with a shadow of his old cocky grin, and it almost breaks Sams heart.

“I’m watching the stars, Sammy – waiting for one to fall. Maybe it’ll be Cas.”

 

A couple of weeks later, Bobby and Sam are sitting in the kitchen when Castiel suddenly appears. Both men reach for their guns instinctively until they realise who it is, and then they get a second shock as they take in the angels altered appearance. He looks older, grimmer and he’s gained a few scars – his blue eyes are shadowed and even his hair looks dusty, lacklustre - this isn’t the laughing, handsome man who was in love with Dean, and who made Dean so happy.

“Hello, Bobby. Hello, Sam. Where’s Dean?” he asks.

At this seemingly casual question after all Bobby and he have been through with Dean since Castiel’s disappearance, Sam explodes.

“I can’t believe you! Where’s Dean? You just land back here after two months as if nothing’s happened and ask, Where’s Dean?”

Bobby lays a hand on Sam’s shoulder to calm him, but he too is feeling angry, and in no mood to go gently with the angel.

“Is it two months?” asks Castiel dazedly. “It feels as if I’ve been fighting… for hundreds of years. Time moves differently for us.. I hoped I wouldn’t have been away so long.” And he sways on his feet.

Bobby rises and pushes him into a chair.

“Sit before you fall, idjit! Suppose you get us up to date with what’s going on? For starters, are you a full-on angel again? Got your mojo back?”

Castiel wipes a hand across his face.

“Yes – my old garrison found a way to restore my grace – they wanted me to lead them in the battles, so they asked me to rejoin them. I.. saw a chance to help save heaven, and I.. I went.”

Sam looks about to burst into violent speech again, but Bobby silences him with a look.

“So – didja win, Cas?” he asks.

“Yes.” replies Castiel. “in a way – but there is still much to do and many of my brothers and sisters have been killed. And there are still rebels, but my garrison is free of duties for the moment, and I was allowed to come and see Dean… to try and explain why I had to leave him.”

He looks from Sam to Bobby, sensing something in the air, something wrong.

“Where is Dean? Is something wrong? Where is he, Bobby?”

“He’s … he’s in the attic room, Cas. But..” Bobby stutters to a halt as the angel disappears.

Seconds later, an unearthly sound fills the air, and the lightbulbs begin to explode. The whiskey glasses on the dresser shatter one by one, and Sam and Bobby duck for cover as glass fragments shower down on them, covering their ears for protection as the sound reaches unbearable levels. It drives them to their knees screaming as the blood begins to trickle from their ears and noses, until suddenly, it cuts off. For them, the world has become muffled in cotton wool as their eardrums try to recover from the sonic blast of an angel in mourning.  
For Castiel has arrived too late. What he has found on the iron bed in the attic room, is the body of an old, old man. Dean died the night before, and Sam and Bobby have been trying to prepare themselves to give him the proper hunter’s funeral he would have wanted.


End file.
